


nab a nap

by jeannbeann



Category: Fire Emblem Heroes, Fire Emblem Series
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Other, for angrymiqote COME GET UR MANS DUDE, it's actually so much fun to write niles and i hope i did him justice, kiran works too hard, niles always makes me !!!!!!!!!!! my dudes, no beta like usual i will perish with my typos, nothing explicit here but theres a lot of hint-hint because it's niles lol, tender moment with the flirty thief of our dreams, the summoner is also overworked and niles is here to help them take a break, the summoner is thirsty too tho to be fair
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:48:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25174135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeannbeann/pseuds/jeannbeann
Summary: “Through thick and thin,” he points out, almost softly. “Wasn’t that what I told you before? I seem to recall some sweet little drivel on friendship being thrown in there, too, but moreimportantly…I did tell you I always delight my dearest friends. Care for me to do that now? You’re so tired, after all, Kiran. I think you could do with a bit of…pampering.”/Niles finds an overworked Kiran and decides to take it upon himself to help them take a break.
Relationships: Summoner | Eclat | Kiran/Zero | Niles
Comments: 1
Kudos: 29





	nab a nap

**Author's Note:**

  * For [angrymiqote](https://archiveofourown.org/users/angrymiqote/gifts).



Niles knows an overworked person when he sees one. His Lord Leo, after all, is a stickler for decorum and studies, and serves as the picturesque poster boy for an overworked hard-worker. The archer is nearly convinced he’ll continue as the reigning one—up until he meets the Summoner.

Today, they’re as busy as ever. He watches them as he’s tending to his bow, in a secluded little grove in the castle gardens. It’s one of his favourite spots, perfect for its marvelous ability to hide him from any eyes that don’t take the time to look; while also granting him a free view of the corridor connecting the east and west wings of the castle. It’s one of the busiest places, most of all during the afternoon.

Initially, it’s amusing to see Kiran hurrying about. The first time he catches a glimpse of a white coat flash by, he’s wrapping a strip of fresh leather around his bow’s grip. When he glances up, he finds Kiran carrying a stack of important-looking papers, expression a mask of steely determination. He turns back to his work when they vanish beyond the door, snipping the leather off with his pocket knife. He’s running his fingers down the bow’s belly, testing the feel of the new grip, when the door swings back open mere minutes later and Kiran reappears. This time, they’re carrying a stack of tomes. It’s enough to make Niles’ quirk a brow—they look heavy, and as far as he’s aware, the Summoner doesn’t know a lick of magic—up until he spots a white-haired man follow after. Robin, if he remembers correctly. He watches as he chats amiably with Kiran, carrying his own pile of books, and it all clicks for Niles.

_Another favour, most likely,_ he thinks, casting a wry look at the back of Kiran’s head as they pass. _As selfless as ever, I see._

It’s an adorably endearing trait of the Summoner’s, as much as it is a frustrating one. Niles has reassured them time and time again that he would be more than happy to teach them how to be more selfish—thoroughly. _Privately._ But no matter how many times he’s flustered the Summoner, he still reminds them that he means it, past all the innuendos. It won’t help anyone if Askr’s only Summoner collapses from trying to stretch themselves too thin. He certainly isn’t keen on seeing it happen. Kiran is a rare breed of good, the likes of which Niles knows is in dire short supply. If he can safeguard as much of that genuine goodness, he’s certainly going to do so.

It’s easier said than done, of course. Kiran is as stubborn as they are kind, and Niles has an inkling they’ve already swamped their own schedule with countless other good deeds for the day. They’re probably on the other side of the castle by now. A shame, really. He always enjoys snagging some alone time with the Summoner, but with how busy things have become in Askr, it’s becoming a novel event—something he’s determined to change, sooner than later.

He unstrings his bow and sets it aside with a sigh, reaching out his arms in a slow, pleasant stretch. He won’t be needing it for the rest of today. It’s Odin’s turn to gallivant about alongside a handful of other Heroes in the Arena, and he’s more than happy to let the mage have it. Today, he’s content to simply laze about, idly tending to his gear and savouring the fresh air. He wonders what he’ll do later, and his thoughts drift to familiar white and gold. Perhaps he’ll sway the Summoner into having dinner with him. With the proper food and drink, a certain mood _could_ certainly be set—

There’s a clatter of metal against rock, and he looks up to find Kiran fumbling over a cluster of training swords scattered across the corridor. He hears them muttering to themselves and peers a little closer, curious. He freezes at spotting a flash of red trickling down their hand as they clutch it to themselves. The next moment, he’s already on his feet and heading towards them.

“My, my, what do we have here?” he asks, tone deceptively light even as his sharp eye is already gauging the damage. The gash thankfully isn’t deep, but it stretches across their palm, edging down towards their wrist in an angry red line. His fingers twitch to grab their hand to check further, mindful to keep his voice even as he continues smoothly, “Did I stumble across a wounded little bird? Here, let me kiss it all—”

His sweet words wither the moment the Summoner looks up and he sees their eyes awash with tears. It makes something in his chest jump with something dangerously close to genuine concern. He swallows it back reflexively, but he still feels a stab of worry— _him_ , worried? Kiran truly can spin wonders—that keeps his tongue from purring more buttery lines. Instead, he watches as Kiran instantly flusters, stammering out a feeble excuse as they scrub at their eyes with their uninjured hand. Their face flushes. He allows himself to savor the colour spreading along their skin, down to the tips of their ears, before he turns his attention to them when they finally speak.

“S-Sorry,” they mutter, eyes fluttering down to their wounded hand. They almost seem ashamed. “My…my hand slipped.”

“There’s no need to apologize to _me_ , you know,” Niles tells them, matter-of-factly. He finally bites the bullet and takes their hand, gentle in how he turns their palm up to check it. He clicks his tongue. “Does it hurt that badly?”

_Is that why you’re crying,_ goes unsaid, but it’s implied. Kiran bites their lower lip as they seem to waver on what to say in response. The archer waits. He’s already bracing himself for the same answer he’s seen the Summoner give to others—the safe, respectable answer to skirt around whatever personal issues they’re facing. One that’s enough to answer the question, _technically_ , but never shatters the infallible image Askr’s Summoner is meant to carry at all times.

He’s startled, almost pleasantly so, when Kiran instead crumbles and is completely and wholeheartedly _honest_ with him instead.

“I _messed_ up today,” they sniffle, voice trembling. “I-I haven’t been sleeping very well, but…but I still t-thought I was okay go on patrol, s-so…I did…but—but there were bandits, and one c-charged and—and—I just _froze._ ” Their shoulders slump and their expression twists into something pained and exhausted. “Líf was… hurt protecting me.”

Líf, the older, alternate version of this kingdom’s porcelain prince. Niles has never spoken with the man. He’s wanted to, but the brooding Hero is painfully elusive when he wants to be. He makes a mental note to try a little harder to speak with him; there’s evidently a history between him and the Summoner that Niles is keen to uncover. “Better him than you,” he points out with brutal honesty. He reaches up to wipe away a tear from their face, telling himself it’s less of a tender gesture than it feels. “Are you really all that surprised? Why, I doubt any Hero would hesitate to throw themselves in harm’s way to ensure not a single pretty hair on your head was harmed! It’s only a positive little side-point that your curious little relic ensures that none of us would suffer any _permanent_ damage in doing so. You should treat it as a compliment, if anything. I, for one, wouldn’t dive in front of a sword for anyone, apart from you…or my Lord Leo, of course.”

Kiran stiffens at that. “But—”

“Ah-ah, no backtalk from that adorable little mouth of yours,” he croons, lips curving into a wry smile. “Didn’t I tell you, my dear Kiran? There’s no need to be so tirelessly selfless, not with me. I doubt you wanted to become some nameless bandit’s next kill.” He fiddles with one of his belt’s tiny satchels, fishing out a small roll of bandages. He keeps them there more out of habit—Odin is known to gain himself more than a few scrapes during a fight—but he’s glad for them now. His fingers are deft as he wraps up their hand with practiced ease. The Summoner’s hands are soft against his course ones; wielding a bow as earned him an array of calluses over his fingers. His tone is level, brimming with a layer of hidden steel as he tells them, “There’s no shame in wanting to live.”

“Not at the expense of someone I care about,” Kiran answers almost instantly, an equally hard edge entering their voice. They wince when he tightens the bandages enough to tie it off securely. Mumbling a soft thank-you, the Summoner flexes their hand tentatively. Then they look at him. It almost makes something in Niles’ chest catch, seeing the glimmer of genuine desperation there, past the dark circles and red-rimmed eyes. “I hate it when people are h-hurt because of me! If something were to ever _actually_ happen to my friends or to you, I…I…”

Niles latches onto those words quickly, almost embarrassingly so. “To me?” he echoes and huffs out a small laugh. “Well, don’t I feel special, being singled out by our beloved little Summoner!”

“You _are_ special,” they insist, and Niles immediately feels something in him untwist and relax—the same something that tightened at thinking of what possible relationship would spur the Summoner into shedding tears for Líf. He stills when they wrap their hands around his, their eyes still glassy as they repeat, almost fervently, “Niles, you’re so special to _me_. You always have been, and y-you always will. I just—I want—”

Their cheeks flush further, and the air grows tense between them. The thief is sorely tempted to hear those next little words, achingly so. He’s selfish enough to steal them away and keep them for himself, far away from any other Hero that’s summoned to this strange new world. They’re his, he thinks with a streak of fiery possessiveness, and no one else’s. Once they’re spoken, he’ll fight to keep them all for himself—just as much as he will with the person before him.

_But not like this,_ he thinks, caught over the exhaustion that’s in the Summoner’s face. He’s grown so accustomed to seeing them wear a smile that this entire moment feels wrong without it; it’s far from the ideal setting that someone like them deserves. They should be rested and happy and smiling. He wants to put a smile back there.

So, he flicks their forehead, gentle enough not to hurt, but abrupt enough to make the Summoner pause and look at him in bewilderment. “Through thick and thin,” he points out, almost softly. “Wasn’t that what I told you before? I seem to recall some sweet little drivel on friendship being thrown in there, too, but more _importantly_ …I did tell you I always delight my dearest friends. Care for me to do that now? You’re so tired, after all, Kiran. I think you could do with a bit of… _pampering._ ”

He relishes the genuine surprise that flitters over Kiran’s face. He can almost read the direction their mind takes them instinctively when their eyes widen and the red creeps down to their neck. They stammer, “I-I… _here_? B-But—the swords—we’re _outside_ —”

“Exactly,” Niles purrs. He can’t help teasing them; it’s always one of his favourite pastimes. “I know the perfect little spot here where _nobody_ will see us.”

Kiran splutters, but still goes along with him when he tugs them to their feet. They make a half-hearted protest when he only nudges the training swords aside with his foot, just enough to clear the corridor’s walkway. It dies when he leads them back to his secret spot. He has to fight to keep the grin off his face, able to read them like an open book. _How adorable._

He tugs them into the little grove and gestures with a wave of his arm. “Here we are. Welcome to my secret little spot, Kiran. You should feel very special,” he points out slyly. “I haven’t taken _anyone_ here before.”

“It’s…neat,” Kiran manages to admit, lamely. They sit on the grass before Niles can try to be smooth and use his own cape as a blanket. He can’t be mad about it, though; not when he sees the genuine nervousness on their face as they sit there and look up at him, part-wary, part-expectant. “Niles, I—”

The rest of their words end in a squawk as he simply flops over and takes them down with him. They land sprawled on the grass, and he scoops the Summoner into his arms, pulling them to rest atop him. He hears their sharp intake of breath as they realize their positions, but they gradually relax as he simply holds them close. They’re warm. He lets out a contented sigh and relishes the feel of their body against his own; a bit of tension he didn’t even realize he had bleeds out of his shoulders when Kiran moves their arm to rest tentatively around his waist.

“Shh,” Niles shushes them after a long moment of them lying there quietly together.

It earns him a huff of confused laughter. “Wh—I didn’t say anything, though?”

“You’re thinking too loud,” he tells them wryly, and lets his eye slide shut. “This is the start of the pampering, my dear little Kiran. We’re going to stay here and we’re going to nap, in our own little private paradise.” He feels them tense, likely at thinking of all the responsibilities still waiting for them, and adds smoothly, “I know you want to run off and help everyone, but what about _me_? I need to cuddle my favourite little Summoner to sleep, you know. Won’t you help me out, too, _Kiran_?”

They shiver a little when he breathes their name into their ear, before they finally crumble. “ _F-Fine_ —fine! Just…just a small nap wouldn’t hurt,” they admit, already snuggling in closer. Their grip around his waist tightens and he’s pleasantly surprised when they tuck their head beneath his chin, their nose pressing against his collarbone. “This…this is really nice…I think I…needed this.”

They already sound drowsy. Niles only hums in response, and listens to their breathing slowly even out from its shaky rhythm into something slow and deep as Kiran drifts off. He listens to them, savouring the moment; the rustle of the wind through the leaves, the distant voices of Heroes further in the castle, the call of birds.

And just before he, too, falls into a restful sleep, he makes a mental note to fetch them both dinner later.

Tonight, he decides, will be a night for only them.

**Author's Note:**

> ~~and then the rest is stuff that if I wrote, I'd have to change the rating lmfao~~
> 
> WOOOOOOOO boy, I love writing for Niles! I truly hope I did him justice. I wrote this little drabble for my pal, [angrymiqote](https://archiveofourown.org/users/angrymiqote/pseuds/angrymiqote) to cheer em up with his favourite guy!!! all the love to uuuuuuuuu friend <3 
> 
> thanks so much for reading! 2020 has been crazy, to say the least, so I hope my writing cheers someone up, somehow! I'll do my best to update my other fic, too, I haven't forgotten - it's just been an uphill battle to keep my muse going, but I'll do it somehow to make up for all the sweet reviews people have left! each one always makes me warm and fuzzy inside, and even if my muse ditches me again, ill fight to dish out SOMETHING...... eventually
> 
> as always, feel free to bug me at my [twitter](http://twitter.com/jeann_eh)! im always happy to chat with other FEH players and cry over these characters.


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